Summer Holiday
by Cielita
Summary: **Updated!** What begins as a friendly Quidditch game becomes a serious battle between love and control. AD/MM primarily. some MM/SS. Rating and categories have been changed to reflect new direction of the story.


"Summer Holiday"  
  
Ever wonder what the teachers do all summer at Hogwart's? What if they were to have a Quidditch tourney of their own to keep their skills (and their rivalry) sharpened? What would that be like?  
  
"How long has it been since we played Quidditch, Minerva?" asked Dumbledore, taking a deep breath of the fresh summer air as he and Professor McGonagall walked down to the Quidditch field.  
"Years. And for good reason," she said, her broom clutched in her hand as they walked.  
"Afraid, my dear?" he asked with a light-hearted smile. His undisguised admiration of her made her blush, and her insides fluttered for a moment before she replied.  
"Of course not, I'm merely pointing out that we are not our students. We're not as young as we used to be, Albus," she replied, her spectacles flashing in the sunlight, "I don't especially look forward to playing against Severus today. We all know how competitive he is." Dumbledore smiled again, squinting in the brightness of the sun. When they reached the Quidditch field, several staff members were there already, including Madam Hooch, who usually functioned as the referee. The two teams had already been chosen, most of the professors choosing to play for the houses they represented now, or did in their youth. As a result, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws were playing the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.  
"Mount your brooms!" cried Madam Hooch, "Take your positions!" Moments later, Professor McGonagall took her place high in the formation, directly facing Professor Snape.  
"Probably not a smart idea to fly in a dress, Minerva. It could slow you down," said Professor Snape.  
"If I were you, I would not make assumptions before the start of a game, Severus," said McGonagall.  
"Care to place a wager, Minerva?" he teased.  
"I will only say this once so listen very carefully," said McGonagall, sailing up to his ear and speaking very slowly and deliberately, "By the end of this game, you will eat-my-broomstick." With this, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game was on. The quaffle was launched into the air and the bludgers were released and soared into the air. McGonagall had worked a binding charm on her spectacles before the game, just to be sure that they didn't fall off in flight, and watched carefully for the snitch. You see, when she was a girl, she was every bit the seeker that Harry was. A minute after the bludgers had been released, McGonagall watched as the snitch shot straight into the air darted across the pitch.  
"My team, by 30 points, plus the snitch. Loser gets to-" Severus never got the rest of the sentence out. McGonagall flew a wide circle around him and cried, "You're on!" before taking off higher into the air. Snape caught a glimpse of a flash of gold and took off towards it, leaving McGonagall in the dust for a moment. A split second later, she saw it, a flutter of wings, a glint of gold, rushing toward the opposing team's hoops. She bolted for it, dodging her teammates and nearly getting a bludger in the arm. The quaffle seemed to jump of its own accord from player to player, Professor Sprout trying desperately to guard their end of the field. The quaffle soared through the air and toward the hoops. Sprout launched herself in the direction that it was coming, and swept the end of her broomstick around, batting the quaffle back the other direction and nearly all the way to the other end of the Quidditch field. Each team had scored two goals in the first ten minutes of play.  
Professor Dumbledore saw the quaffle coming and caught it on its descent, soaring back into the air and shooting toward his opponent's goal. Madam Pomfrey joined him and he passed it to her, his whole team cheering as the quaffle easily cleared the hoops and scored. McGonagall stopped and smiled for only a second before looking again for the snitch. This time, it was closer. She spotted it near the stands and pointed her broom that way. Her team had the thirty points it needed for her wager with Snape, now she needed that snitch. She was nearly on top of the it when a streak of black blew past her and then dropped under her. She pointed the nose of her broom down and pushed harder, urging her broom faster and over her opponent. The black clad opposing seeker, Professor Snape dodged right when she did this, shocked as she retaliated to his attack.  
Determined not to be out done, Snape bent over his broom and shot forward, suddenly pulling up toward McGonagall. Just above him, McGonagall had just seen a bludger coming at her and pulled up herself, so that when Snape hit her, she overcorrected and flew backwards toward the side of the stadium.  
Meanwhile, Professor Sinistra, playing for the Ravenclaws, came out of nowhere, chasing down the bludger that was floating decidedly in the middle of the air space. She came up beside it and hit it as hard as she could, sending Poppy Pomfrey, a chaser for the other team, plummeting downward and into one of the stands. Wood, fabric, and dust flew when she hit, and the bludger soared back into play. Madam Hooch, playing for the Hufflepuffs, cornered the other bludger and sent it careening toward Sinistra, nearly knocking the Astronomy teacher off her broom.  
On the other side of the field, McGonagall was losing the battle to regain control of her broom. Just before she soared over the boundaries of the stadium, she lashed out and grabbed at a flash of bright gold. She wasn't sure if she caught it or not, but it didn't matter, because thirty seconds later, she hit the surface of the nearby lake. Hard. Her broom cracked into half a dozen pieces when she hit, breaking the binding charm on her glasses and sending them flying. She sank unconscious into the waters, not immediately seen by her teammates. When Madam Hooch realized minutes later that the snitch was gone, she blew her whistle and brought the game to a halt.  
"Where's Minerva?" Hooch cried, looking at all of the players. Snape looked furiously around. He though that she had been hiding in his shadow or something, but Hooch was right-McGonagall was MIA-Missing in Action.  
A sudden feeling of intuition ran through Snape's mind: he had hit McGonagall from underneath and sent her flying the opposite direction. The Lake. Snape took off out of the field, the wind whipping his face as he streaked toward the lake. As he fled, the others followed, Professor Sprout staying behind to pull Madam Pomfrey out of the stands and help her heal her broken shoulder before joining the others at the lakeside.  
Professor Snape hovered over the surface of the lake where the pieces of McGonagall's broom floated. Snape looked at the others in horror. This was all his fault.  
"Severus, don't!" cried Professor Sprout, "You can't hold your breath that long!"  
"Neither can Minerva!" he cried back, "I'm going in after her! Take my broom!" With this, Snape slid off the side of his broom and dove head first into the water, opening his eyes in the darkening water.  
"Accio broom!" called Professor Flitwick, commanding Snape's broom to return to the shore.  
"This is terrible!" cried Professor Trelawney, watching the surface of the water for any sign of the two professors. Seconds passed like hours, but a minute and thirty seconds later, Snape's pale face broke the surface of the water again, a green clad McGonagall unconscious in his arms.  
When they reached the shore, the professors could still hear the angry whistles, shrieks and clicks of the mer-people, angry for having been disturbed by the rescue.  
"Oh, I can't watch!" said Professor Flitwick, burying his face in his small hands. Professor McGonagall was clearly not breathing. Snape pulled her up onto the shore, her dress and robes soaking wet and making her twice as heavy as she would ordinarily be. He dropped to his knees and dropped his head to her chest, listening for breathing or a heartbeat.  
"She's alive.I just have to." Snape muttered as he searched his brain for the knowledge he needed. He remembered once taking a muggle life-saving class but that had been years ago. Could he remember what he was taught? Spontaneously he acted, tipping her head back and breathing into her mouth, forcing the air into her lungs. It was hard; she must have inhaled a great deal of water. Again and again he performed this action, breath and listen, breath and listen.  
"Damn it, Minerva, breath!" he shouted.  
"Oh, Minerva, please don't die!" whispered Madam Pomfrey, still rubbing her sore shoulder. Snape took a deep breath and breathed into her mouth one more time, fighting to get the air through. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall gasped and began to cough up the water in her lungs. Snape quickly rolled McGonagall onto her side and gently rubbed her back as she continued to cough and sputter. Snape wrapped an arm around her and helped her sit up for a moment. Looking her over carefully, he asked, "Are you hurt anywhere else?" She shook her head. He looked at her right hand and then looked back at her face. McGonagall opened her hand to reveal a very wet snitch. Her team erupted into cheering. Amid the noise, McGonagall looked at Snape and asked, "What was your condition? You've lost the wager."  
"It was.um.dependant on your defeat, I'm afraid," he replied.  
"Well, what was it?" she asked impatiently. But before he could reply, Professor Dumbledore wrapped his cloak around McGonagall's shoulders and lifted her into his arms. Her hair was beginning to dry and the tiny wisps around her face were forming little ringlets of curls. Other parts of her hair were still dripping, but Dumbledore didn't seem to mind. As the two teams walked back up to the castle, McGonagall snuggled into Dumbledore's chest as he carried her. She was still feeling a little weak, but was nearly sure that she could walk again. For some reason though, she enjoyed the feeling of having him carry her. There was just something chivalrous about it; almost heroic, even though her true hero was following obediently behind them.  
Later that night, after dinner, Professor McGonagall was sitting at her desk in her study, writing in her journal when there was a knock at her door.  
"Enter," she replied. When she looked up, Severus Snape was standing before her.  
"I apologize for interrupting you, Professor, but I wanted to make sure you were all right after what happened this afternoon. I'm afraid it was quite plainly my fault," he said standing before her desk.  
"There really is no need to apologize, Severus. You did what any good seeker would do. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy would have been proud to have seen you play his position so well," she replied. She took off her spectacles after this and gingerly folded her hands on the desktop.  
"I never did get the chance to thank you properly, Severus. You saved my life," said McGonagall, meeting his eyes, "The mer-people would have brought me back to the surface, but you chose to come and save me yourself."  
"It was my pleasure, Professor. It was nothing that you would not have done in my position, I'm sure," Snape replied. McGonagall looked at him. He had changed into clean, much drier black robes, and his hair seemed a little less greasy for the washing it got that afternoon. He looked exhausted, and also looked like he hadn't finished what he had come to say.  
"Well, I should be going. As I said, Professor, you have my sincerest apologies on what happened today. I would never condone in my students the stunt I pulled today," he said, turning and walking toward the door. He hesitated as he opened the door and looked back.  
"It was a kiss," he said simply, and walked away. Professor McGonagall lost all the feeling in her legs. The rest of Snape's wager had been that the loser had to give the winner a kiss. That was why he had told her that the final condition of the wager was dependant upon their defeat! McGonagall held back tears. Her heart held feelings for Dumbledore, and she was sure, until now, that his love for her was unchallenged. How long had Severus had these feelings?  
What should she do? Should she go and confront Severus? Should she tell Albus? How would he react? He would put the choice with her. He would never show jealousy outwardly, but she couldn't banish the image of his wrath from her mind. McGonagall rose from her desk and walked to the window, staring at the blue and purple evening sky.  
As these thought whirled in her mind, there was another knock at her door.  
"Come in," she said, not sure she wanted to know who it was.  
"Are you all right, Minerva?" came the soft, gentle voice of Albus Dumbledore, "You must still be in quite a state after today." She nodded briskly, wringing her hands. Albus came further into the room and joined her near the window. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders and she leaned back into his embrace.  
"I nearly lost you today, Minerva," he said, "I'm not sure that I could have handled that without you knowing something very important." Once again, the feeling of numbness spilled over her, this time, most of her body went without feeling.  
"What's that?" she asked, looking up at him.  
"I love you, Minerva," he said. She turned in his arms and stroked his face with her right hand, playing with his long hair and beard for a moment before answering, "I thought you would never say that." Their lips met, and every ounce of the feeling returned to her body in force. Her heart pounded. She knew that this was the love she wanted. She wanted to be with this man for the rest of her life. But what is Severus going to do when he discovers that her feelings are for the headmaster? How far will he go to possess her? She put these thoughts out of her mind for a while, letting Albus kiss her again before she pointed her wand at the door and ordered it to shut. When they broke the kiss, Minerva looked at him, suddenly feeling playful as she observed that merry twinkle in his blue eyes.  
"You know," she said, once again playing with his beard as he held her, "You were awfully strong out there today. I must not have been terribly light soaking wet."  
"Ah, well, it made my day simply to hold you and have you cuddle into my arms that way," he replied. She smiled.  
"Good answer," Minerva replied, letting her emerald outer robe fall to the floor before kissing him again. Yes, any other thought would definitely have to wait. Till morning as a matter of fact.  
  
Snape was not in a good mood the next day. He had not gotten much sleep, owing to the fact that he quite expected McGonagall to come to his chambers that night and fulfill the wager. Stronger than that, though, were his suspicions that there was already someone in Minerva McGonagall's love life these days. In his mind, he rattled through his male co-workers, trying to discern which of them might be his competition. There was nothing to suggest that any of them could be wooing McGonagall behind his back. But the question still remained: who was?  
These thoughts seemed to keep him from productive work that morning, causing a headache and forcing him to slam things about his desk looking for the headache potion that he knew he had somewhere. Traditional muggle remedies such as aspirin never seemed to work, and he had just dropped a jar of slivered porcupine quills when there was a knock at his door.  
"Come in! And it better be good!" he screamed. Professor McGonagall opened the door and came inside, looking for all the world like she was about to lecture him for yelling at her, and then she saw the shattered jar and him kneeling on the floor trying to clean it up.  
"Severus, don't! You'll cut your hands! Let me do this!" she said, producing her wand and restoring the jar to its previous state. She picked it up off the floor and handed it to him, his hands covering hers for a moment. He wasn't ready for what it felt like to touch her. Her hands were soft and her fingers were long and ladylike. He looked at her and spoke, "Thank you, Professor. I did not mean to be so rude. The morning's work had left me with a headache. What can I do for you? You obviously came down to the dungeons for a reason." His voice had become softer. She noticed this receding of his anger and straightened her back and squared her shoulders. The McGonagall that Snape knew and cared for was once again buried beneath the façade called 'deputy headmistress' again.  
"I came down because it occurred to me that we have not settled our wager. You owe me a kiss, Severus," she said. Her tone was half business- like and half passionate. Snape heard this and decidedly treaded lightly. He approached McGonagall and placed his hand son her shoulders. His heart pounded as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She reached up to clutch his sleeves, sub-consciously allowing him to kiss her longer than she had planned. In a half-second of spontaneity, Snape deepened the kiss a little, bringing one hand up to cup her face. She pulled away suddenly, looking a little ruffled, and more than a little upset.  
"I-I hope I haven't.." Snape began, but McGonagall waved her hand in front of him.  
"I'm just.I'm a bit dizzy, Severus," she replied, turning and bracing herself on a high backed chair. What was she doing!?  
"Here," Snape said, handing her a glass half full with a slightly fizzy green substance, "This should help." She nodded at him, taking the glass and drinking it. She thought for a moment that it had worked, but Snape held her steady all the same. She was about to tell him that she was fine when the dizziness all at once became much worse. The room seemed to spin and she couldn't hold herself up.  
"Severus, what's going on?" she demanded. He helped her to a chair for a moment, still holding on to her arm. As quickly as she had become dizzy, the feeling almost completely left her. She felt like she had just been on a terribly fast carnival ride.  
"Is there someone else, Minerva?" Snape asked her. What was he talking about? The two of them had not been seeing each other! What business of his was her love life?  
"Tell me! I won't share you with another!" he cried, pushing her to a couch on the other side of the room.  
"Severus, stop!" she shouted as he descended on her, his black robes billowing and his brown eyes flashing. He was frightening her, and it was growing harder and harder to hide it.  
Gathering all of her strength, McGonagall pulled herself up off the couch and fled, quickly sealing the door behind her. She ran from the dungeons, past the potions classrooms, past the Slytherin common room, past the empty, musty, barred cells that in a former lifetime held the prisoners of some great and powerful king. For the rest of the day, no one saw Minerva McGonagall. She had sealed the door to her chambers and alternated between trying to sort out her lessons and lying on her bed sobbing. She had no idea what she would tell Albus. She had only gone to Snape to settle the wager, and that had been a miserable failure. She had come very close to something much worse than dizziness and she knew it. If only she knew how to tell Albus that! There had been knocks at her door all day, but she hadn't answered any of them. Two of them had actually banged violently on the door and tried the doorknob. At these, Minerva had retreated into a corner of her room, sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up and her chin resting on them as she cried.  
Only after dinner had Minerva had the courage to unseal her door and lie down to rest. She was so tired that she remained fully dressed and simply lay down on the coverlet. She was asleep no more than half an hour when she felt something soft and fragrant caress her cheek. She awoke with a start, pulling away a bit before the stranger spoke.  
"I hope I haven't startled you, Minerva. I simply wanted to know if you would like to join me for a small adventure," said just the voice Minerva needed to hear.  
"You-you gave me a start," she stuttered, sitting up.  
"You didn't come downstairs for dinner, so I decided it was up to me to come and see if you were all right. I even sent Severus once or twice when I was in too deep over my head in work. I had several urgent owls from the ministry today. He and I worked most of the day on the potions curriculum. I knew that you usually prefer to write your curriculums yourself, so neither of us wanted to disturb you, but when we didn't see you all day." Albus rambled.  
"Oh, Severus was the last person I wanted to see!" she wailed. Now Albus was confused. Minerva looked at him and the burgundy red rose he held in his hand. He had charmed it to change colors from burgundy to gold and back. Minerva smiled for the first time all day as she sniffled back tears.  
"Are you ill? What's happened?" Albus asked, sitting on the bed beside her. She told him everything. About the wager, about his apology, and how she felt she needed to settle the score, and how he had drugged her. By the time she finished, she had dried her eyes and was searching Albus' for signs of understanding. He took hold of her hand and held it in both of his. He was plainly fighting a tirade of emotions but managed a calm voice as he replied to the information he now had.  
"Minerva," he asked, trying hard not to cry or scream, not really knowing which he wanted to do more, "Do you have feelings for Severus?" his heart thudded with pain. Minerva lost the battle and cried anyway.  
"No," she whimpered, "Oh, Albus, I've always loved you!"  
"Then why this wager with Severus?" he asked, a tear slipping out of his eye and down his beard.  
"I didn't know the last part until last night. I didn't want Severus to think that I didn't have the integrity to hold up my end of a bargain," she replied.  
"He-he drugged you in the dungeons today?" Albus replied, trying to make sure that he had the story right. She nodded. There was an awkward silence for a while before Albus sat up straight and Minerva panicked, thinking he was going to walk out.  
"You said something about an adventure. What did you have in mind?" she asked. The sun was setting and Minerva wasn't sure how much more trouble she could handle in one day. The question seemed to lighten Albus' expression.  
"I have heard from our students that a quite a popular past time is to fish at sunset. I wondered if you would come with me," he replied. Minerva could hear that he was still angry. She thought about this for a second.  
"Well," she said cautiously, "I've never been much of a fisherman, but for you, I'll try anything.if you'll still have me." Albus looked at her, the attempt at redemption clearly in the works. He kissed her hand, which he still held in his, and said, "Minerva, I don't want us ever to hide anything from each other again. If something is bothering you, please tell me. We will deal with Severus in the morning.that is, if we are back yet," he said, the twinkle returning to his eyes. Minerva wept for joy. Albus pulled her to him and held her for a while.  
"I love you so much, Albus," she whispered, "I really don't deserve you."  
"Oh, yes you do. Who else would convince you that you need to have fun once in a while?" he said, "Now, take this, and I promise, you'll feel much better." Minerva opened her hand and there was a lemon drop in it. She laughed before putting it in her mouth.  
"Let's go!" she whispered. Minutes later, they were gliding on the surface of a small lake not far from the school grounds. For a while they whispered, thinking that any loud noise might scare the fish, but by the time the sun was getting ready to rise, they had shouted, bellowed, fought, cried, and come back together again, once again sure that their love was the one meant to last. By the time the sun peeked up over the horizon, both were sitting on the bottom of the boat, Minerva reclining back into his embrace. She had dozed off several times, but now she was wide awake, watching the sun become a brilliant fireball on the brightening horizon. Albus' right arm was draped around her waist and she was resting against his shoulder. Their fishing equipment had long since been put away. They had gotten to looking at the stars after the worst of their spat and had literally forgotten why they were fighting.  
"Albus," Minerva murmured, "Are you awake?" a drowsy hum and a kiss on her head answered her question.  
"Are you still angry with me?" There was a silence for a moment before his arm curled more properly around her waist and he spoke, "Minerva, do you really love me?"  
"Of course I do. I've never loved anyone more," she replied. He pulled her down into his arms and cradled her, smiling as she looked up at him, "Then never ask me that question again, because I could never be angry with the woman I love." Minerva's heart soared. Albus held her close and kissed her. Her arms wound around him, further sealing them together. They tried to lay down in the bottom of the boat, but that proved to be an effort in futility, as the boat flipped, sending the witch and wizard tumbling into the water. Coming up to the surface still beneath the boat, the two laughed. Once again, they kissed, their robes growing heavy in the water.  
It was nearly ten o'clock the next morning when they returned, sneaking into the castle and back to their respective rooms. Albus walked Minerva to her room and kissed her soundly before he left her there.  
"We've plainly missed breakfast, my darling, but I'll see you at lunch!" he whispered, kissing her again before he fled for his own chambers to change and rest. They both slept until lunch.  
When Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived at lunch together, it was hard to keep serious. They felt like teenagers again, giddy with the joy of new romance. At the sight of this, Most of the staff caught on quickly to what was going on. There was a flood of smiles as the headmaster and deputy headmistress took their places at the table. Professor Snape was livid. So it was Dumbledore, was it? He wanted to turn around and vomit right there at the table. How could she love someone so.so.old? Didn't she know that he was, like, one hundred and fifty years old? Granted, he didn't look a day over eighty (this only made him angrier) but still.what right did he have to encroach on his territory like that? What right did he have to love her? Something would have to be done. Soon.  
  
Professor Snape stormed back to his dungeon office. He felt like he had several options, but none of them felt as though they were feasible. There was poison.but he would immediately be suspected. There was.wait, no, that wouldn't work either. There must be something that he could do, but what? He had an idea of sorts but he would need to be very careful. He went to Professor McGonagall's room later on that day, knocking firmly on her door.  
"Minerva? Am I interrupting anything?" Snape asked as he walked in her door.  
"Always," she said coldly, not looking up from the papers she was grading. Snape ignored her comment and walked to her desk.  
"We need to talk, Minerva," Snape declared.  
"So talk. You attacked me in the dungeons that day. If my integrity had not gotten the best of me, I would have been thinking rationally and realized that as far as my standards are concerned, you received your kiss when you saved my life. I should never have gone down there. Especially not alone," McGonagall said, digging her quill into its ink well.  
"Is there anything I can do to make up for this? I had no intention of hurting you. I only needed for you to know how I felt," Snape said, unintentionally raising his voice.  
"Is that what you call love, Severus?" she snapped.  
"Since when is love rational?" Snape shouted.  
"Get out of my office!" McGonagall shouted back. Snape approached her again and took hold of her, holding both of her hands in one of his.  
"Let go of me!" McGonagall screamed, "You can kiss a toad for all I care because you won't get another from me!"  
"I won't allow that filthy old man to lay his hands on you again," Snape said, suddenly calm.  
"That 'filthy old man' has more compassion and integrity than you will ever know in your pathetic life!" Minerva hissed back. Snape dropped her on the floor, Minerva landing with a thud on the rug. Snape looked bewildered. Pathetic? His life was pathetic? Memories came swirling back into his consciousness that he thought he had banished long ago. A tall, burly man with a wide leather belt, a boy, cowering in a corner and covering his pale face and greasy hair with his hands. A woman in the background was screaming. Snape dug his hands into his eye sockets, trying to make it all go away. Suddenly the veins in his temples were pounding.  
Snape ran from the room, locking himself back in his own dungeon quarters. He stood with his back up against the door and sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair. He wasn't that boy anymore. He was a man. He had chosen a different path than his father had. Or had he? What had he just done to Minerva back there? For a moment, he realized, the fear in her eyes reminded him of his mother. The same fear: please, don't do this! That night, Severus Snape slipped out the front doors of Hogwarts and fled into the night. Left everything behind: possessions, clothes, the friends he did have, his career. Nothing mattered if the kind of man he was becoming was anything like that brutish rogue that he was ashamed to call his father. It was just unacceptable. He would not return to Hogwarts until he had sorted himself out. He had to be sure of what kind of man he was.  
Back at Hogwarts, Minerva was still sitting on the floor. She was crying. She was too stunned to get back up. What had she done? On one hand, Severus had released her; she had prevented injury to herself. But the injury she was afraid of was not visible. It was the injury that she feared that she herself had just inflicted. What had she done? She had badly insulted him and she knew it. She looked up at the creek of her door hinges and Albus came quickly to her side and held her. He sat there on the floor and swept her into his lap, cradled her in his arms and gently rocking her. He already knew that Severus had left the school, and now he knew why. She was sobbing into his shoulder, her body wracked by the emotions fighting inside her.  
"Shhh. Oh, Minerva, I'm so sorry this had to happen to you!" Albus murmured. "I'm so sorry!"  
  
Far away, bathed in the shimmering moonlight, there was a lake. The silvery light danced on the faintest of ripples on the surface and off the face of the small waterfall on one side of the lake. Into the water, barely making a ripple, jumped Severus Snape. He came up moments later, using his large hands to push his hair out of his face. He took a deep breath of the midnight air and lay back, taking long, languid strokes as he pulled back across the lake. The water was chilly, but not cold, having absorbed the sunlight from the day. It felt so good to swim. It seemed to clear his head.  
Severus took another deep breath and looked up at the moon. He carefully cleared his head of every clutter: his students, his house, his messy office, the mess he was in with Minerva. Once the mind is clear, one can start to see things with a little bit better perspective. He knew he had been wrong to insist upon seeing Minerva, but his jealous sense of competition had gnawed him to the bone. He had been wrong.  
Minerva.oh, Minerva.She was so graceful, eloquent and always so proper. She was gracious and thoughtful, always taking good care of her staff. She was professional and a talented teacher herself, able to perform the duties of a Deputy Headmistress as well as being a Professor, and finding time to simply be a woman. In a way he envied her ability to juggle everything. But no.it wasn't envy.it was reverence and respect. He knew he needed to go back and talk to Minerva, but would she see him for anything more than a monster? A vision of his father that he had by some fluke of genetics become? A voice inside him whispered, "You'll never know unless you try.you know now, and you are more aware of it. You know she's in love with Dumbledore. Show her that you respect her decision and move on." Snape nodded to himself. "And next time, stick to the scores in Quidditch!" Severus finished his swim, doing several laps of the lake, feeling much better about the situation.  
  
Back at Hogwart's, Albus had tucked Minerva into her bed, and had lain down beside her, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder. She had fallen asleep in his arms long ago, but Albus was still wide awake. This was not going to be easy. If Severus returned tomorrow as he suspected, he was almost sure that Severus would want to settle things with Minerva, but suddenly, he wasn't sure if he trusted Severus in what would almost assuredly be a private conversation. Would he try to harm her again? Needless to say, Albus got very little sleep that night as he cuddled closer to Minerva. He pulled her closer and took a deep breath in her hair. She shifted a bit, sinking deeper into the covers and deeper into his arms. He ardently prayed that this was all going to work out for the best. 


End file.
